Going Home
by Pokeyshadow
Summary: Peter goes to St Louis with Neal. Along the way he learns a few things about the ex-con. Mostly a friendship story with some anst. And lastly a road trip.
1. Chapter 1

He stopped at the top step and sighed; a place he once considered a second home was now unfamiliar...how long had it been?

Before Peter went to jail; the trial and finally an acquittal. Neal couldn't remember the last time he had been at the Burke's home; or maybe he could and just didn't want to remember how long ago it was; another lifetime when he almost felt like family.

Everything changed when his father framed Peter and ran; leaving Neal behind to deal with the aftermaths...and deal he did. He was a con man after all; so he moved on and did what he could to help Peter. They all did; all one team that was completely shattered, though no one was willing to admit it.

And now Neal needed Peter's help; help he didn't deserve and wasn't sure the agent would be willing to give. But it was something he had to do...something he owed.

"Neal, are you going to stand there all night?"

Neal startled; he glanced up at Peter with a weary sigh.

"Neal is something wrong? Do you want to come in?"

He nodded and then hesitated before following Peter inside.

Neal immediately noticed the changes to the Burke's living room; a new sofa and recliner and the walls had recently been painted. He glanced at Peter, who simply shrugged.

"I had a lot of free time" the agent admitted and there was no need to elaborate.

"Neal, why are you here?"

Simple question; with a simple answer.

"I need your help" Neal answered with his eyes never leaving Peter's face. The agent showed a brief moment of surprise but that quickly left, covered up by a concerned mask that Neal wasn't sure was genuine.

"With what?" Peter asked as he placed his hands on his hips; such a familiar stance that Neal wanted to laugh or cry in relief.

"I need to go to St Louis for a few days and I'd rather not sneak around your back."

Neal turned, unarmed by Peter's scrutiny.

"Neal, what's in St Louis?" Peter neared the ex-con. "As far as I know you haven't been back since you were seventeen."

"My mother is...was" Neal quickly said with a lowered head.

"Neal..."

"She's dead Peter. She died a few days ago and I need...I want to claim the body."

"Neal...I'm sorry..."

"Don't." Neal backed away. "I haven't seen her in years...I don't want your sympathy..." He shied away from Peter's outstretched arm.

"Neal, what do you want?"

"An escort to St Louis...a couple of days..." Neal shrugged. "I'm going either way but I'd like to do it the right way..."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "An escort?" He chuckled. "Are things so bad between us that you can't ask me to go with you?"

"You tell me" Neal quietly countered with as much defiance as he could muster.

"Neal, I never blamed you for any of this."

"But it was my father who walked away..."

"Yes, it was" Peter quickly put forth. "Not you."

"Doesn't matter" Neal mumbled, clearly defeated. "I shouldn't have come here."

He took one step before Peter stopped him with a firm grip on his arm.

"It will take a day or two to get the paperwork processed. You decide by then if you want me to go with you."

Peter held on for a few more minutes before releasing Neal's arm. Without looking back Neal quickly opened the door and walked out.

* * *

"Peter, please come to bed."

Peter ignored her as he continued to nurse the beer in his hand. Elizabeth pulled a chair closer and sat down. "Maybe its best if someone else goes with Neal."

"No." He took a sip. "Elizabeth, like it or not Neal and I will be partners again. We have to get back to where we were."

"And if you can't?"

"Not an option." Peter stood up.

"Peter, a lot has happened in the past six months."

"El, I know." The agent walked into the kitchen and tossed the empty can in the garbage.

"Peter I don't want to see you hurt again."

"Neal isn't going to hurt me..."

"Not physically" Elizabeth countered. "Peter you care...maybe too much."

He opened the fridge and pulled out another beer.

"Peter, enough." She grabbed the can and put it back. "It's late and you don't need another one."

He briefly glared at her before conceding to her wishes.

"Elizabeth, you might not understand but I need to go with him."

"You're right I don't." She crossed her arms defiantly. "So go..." She paused. "Why make him ask you?"

"I don't know" Peter admitted with a shrug. "It shouldn't be that hard. After everything we've been through it shouldn't be that hard." He walked out leaving a befuddled Elizabeth behind.

* * *

In the end it was Peter who gave in, though he didn't think of it in that way. For so long he was in survival mode, going through the motions as his freedom remained in peril.

But now that was over and his life was nearly back to normal...finally he had time to think about Neal and what he went through, how devastated he must have been when his father walked away.

Of course he said he was fine and outwardly he appeared to be but Peter knew otherwise. His eyes spoke volumes and it was obvious he wasn't fine and Peter worried that his mother's death was going to push him over the edge.

"Peter. It's so good to see you." June greeted him with a warm hug. "Neal said all the charges were dropped."

He nodded. "Still trying to get my life in order" Peter said as he eyed the staircase. "How has Neal seemed to you?"

She smiled. "He's Neal. Ever the con man..."

"That's what I'm afraid of" Peter remarked as he walked by June and headed upstairs.

Neal answered after two knocks.

"Peter, what are you doing here?" He stepped aside to allow Peter to enter. "It's been a while" the agent noted as he eyed the loft.

"I got the paperwork approved" Peter said as he pulled out a small envelope. "You get a week..."

"A whole week." Neal said, somewhat surprised. "How'd you managed that?"

Peter shrugged. "We leave tomorrow."

"We?" Neal glanced over. "You're going with me?"

Peter nodded. "Assuming you're ok with that."

"Is Elizabeth ok with it?"

Peter didn't answer.

"I don't want to cause any more problems..."

"Neal, you didn't cause any of this." Peter threw his hands up. "El's not happy but she understands why I want to go..."

"Why?" Neal asked. "Peter, you could send anyone with me."

"Neal, tell me you don't want me to go."

Neither man spoke for several minutes.

"It's settled" Peter said to break the silence. "I'll pick you up in the morning." He turned to leave.

"Peter...wait."

Neal neared him. "You're going to learn a few things I don't want others to know."

"OK" Peter remarked evenly, trying to reassure Neal with an uneasy smile. "Neal, whatever I find out stays with me."

Neal nodded. "I'm not sure how I'm going to react. Peter I haven't talked to my mom in years."

The agent wasn't sure how to respond to that; Neal was watching him and waiting for his reaction.

"Neal, can I ask why?" Peter eyed him. "Not even a phone call?"

Neal shook his head. "She would not have known my voice...and I doubt she would have recognized me."

Peter's brows rose in unison. "What was wrong with her?" he quietly asked, watching as Neal turned with a quiet sigh.

"Neal?" Peter walked into the ex-con's vision. "Talk to me."

Peter knew Neal wanted to tell him; otherwise he would not have started this conversation.

"They didn't know." Neal managed a small chuckle. "Early dementia...maybe psychosis...they weren't sure." Neal shrugged. "For as long as I can remember she wasn't right and finally we had to commit her."

"We?" Peter asked.

"Ellen and I" Neal answered with a deep sigh. He turned his head and took a couple of deep breaths.

"Neal, I'm sorry." Peter planted a hand on Neal's shoulder and gently squeezed. "I can't imagine how hard that must have been." Peter let his hand linger for a few minutes until Neal's breathing evened out.

"Neal, how old were you?" he finally asked

"Fifteen" Neal answered in a quiet voice.

"Wow." Peter whistled softly. "Did you move in with Ellen?"

"No." Neal shrugged and almost laughed at the look Peter gave him. "I was used to taking care of myself and Ellen was nearby..."

"Neal, that's illegal. Didn't your neighbors notice?"

Neal shrugged again. "Peter, it seems like a lifetime ago. Maybe it was" he added wistfully, seemingly ending the conversation.

Peter decided to let it go. "Did you buy a plot?" he asked.

"Yes" Neal answered as he walked to the fridge and fished out a bottle of water. "Since I don't know where my mom grew up I bought a small plot near Ellen's grave." He eyed Peter. "Not exactly family but at least she won't be alone."

"She'll be fine" Peter remarked soothingly. "Neal, did you ever try to find her family?"

Neal laughed. "What do you think?" He shook his head. "Caffrey isn't that uncommon and I have nothing to go on..."

"We can try" Peter put forth, stopping Neal in mid-sentence. "Neal, say the word and we can work on it."

"I'd like that" Neal said with a genuine smile. "It's hard having no family..."

"You make your own" Peter interrupted. "And you have family...so don't forget that."

Neal looked away, clearly embarrassed by Peter's statement. "I know" he finally admitted.

"OK" Peter said, glancing at his watch. "I'll pick you up at 8am."

Neal refused to look his way so Peter walked out.

* * *

Peter was elated when they finally touched down in St Louis and he could get off the plane. It wasn't a long flight but Neal never stopped moving...his legs, his arms and his feet were constantly fluttering in a perpetual state of motion.

He wouldn't talk and every time Peter tried to engage him in a conversation, Neal would turn his head towards the window and ignore him.

Finally Peter gave up; he knew Neal was nervous and in the end just being there was the only thing he could do to help his friend.

They had picked up a rental car near the airport and the drive to the funeral home took nearly an hour. Neal played with the radio and Peter let him be and concentrated on driving the unfamiliar roads.

Neal had made all the arrangements but told Peter very little; there would be a small service at the funeral home and then the body would be cremated. Back in New York, Peter wasn't sure what Neal had planned but he assumed a small gravesite service would be appropriate.

"Neal, that's the street." Peter turned right and drove another block until he saw the funeral home.

"Are you ready?" Peter asked as he pulled in the lot.

Neal didn't move.

"Neal, let's go." Peter exited, walked around and opened the passenger door. Slowly Neal got out and silently marched inside.

"Can I help you?" A short woman with grayish, curly hair greeted them at the door.

"I'm Neal Caffrey. My mother died at the Greyside nursing home and her body was brought here." Neal dropped the necessary paperwork on the counter.

The lady stared at them and then walked over to the desk and stared at the computer. She started typing and then muttered something under her breath.

"Is anything wrong?" Peter asked, as she continued to bang on the keyboard.

"Excuse me." Peter loudly cleared this throat.

The lady looked up with a panic expression. "I'm afraid someone has already claimed the body."

"No." Neal shook his head. "That's not possible. You called me. Why would you give it to someone else?" He glanced at Peter.

"Can we see the paperwork?" Peter asked bluntly as he neared the desk.

"I'm afraid I can't..."

"Yes, you can." Peter pulled out his badge. "We need to know and you will tell us."

She hesitated; debated and slowly stood.

"This can't be happening" Neal muttered when she walked away. "Peter, who else...? It can't be" Neal suddenly said.

"Peter, you don't think my father..." Neal paused when he saw the woman approaching.

"A James Bennett..."

"Damn it." Neal swore and then slammed his hand on the counter.

"Neal, calm down."

"He can't do that. Peter he can't do this to me." Neal's voice cracked as Peter took a step closer.

"No" Neal whispered as he eyed the exit. "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to find him and I'm going to kill him."

"Neal..."

The ex-con turned and ran out the door.

"Neal!" Peter followed but Neal was out of sight in a matter of seconds. Peter re-entered the funeral home.

"Oh dear, did we make a mistake?"

Peter stared at her in disbelief. He picked up the papers that Neal had left and walked out.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter stared at the computer screen; at the tiny red dot that signaled Neal's tracking anklet. He'd been at the same spot for nearly an hour and after a few phone calls Peter had discovered it was a tavern about three miles away.

Peter figured he'd give Neal another hour and if he didn't leave, the agent would fetch him. After talking to the funeral director Peter had learned that James claimed the body three days ago; enough time to be anywhere, though that didn't stop Peter from calling the bureau and having them work the new lead.

As much as Peter disliked Neal's father; and given the chance Peter would put him away for life, he didn't think James would do this to his own son.

There had to be another reason...Peter shook his head. For Neal's sake he hoped this was more than a form of revenge.

Peter was bored; he wasn't going to sit alone in a hotel room doing nothing. He closed his laptop, grabbed the car keys and headed out.

Peter drove towards the bar through streets that mirrored the conditions of the neighborhood. Even though Peter knew nothing about the city, it was obvious this was the poorer section with rundown and abandoned homes and buildings. He slammed on the brakes as a dog ran in front of him, followed by a young child.

A few minutes later he found himself in front of the bar. He turned the car off and got out, his eyes taking in the sad sight of another building that once had better days. One side was completely covered in graffiti and the front door was partially off its hinges. Pulled to one side was a gate and Peter assumed that's how they kept looters out when the bar was closed, assuming they closed.

Peter walked in and stopped, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkened room. There were several patrons sitting at the bar and they all turned to stare at the stranger who had invaded their territory.

The agent ignored them and walked past as he spied his partner with a pool stick, taking aim at a ball.

"Neal" Peter whispered, ignoring the ex-con's competitor. "Neal, let's go."

Neal ignored him but the other guy didn't.

"He's busy. And he's not going anywhere until I win my money back."

Peter groaned as he stared up.

"Neal, I'm not kidding. Give him his money back so we can get out of here."

Peter reached for the stick but he was grabbed first.

"You don't seem to want to live, do you?"

Neal glanced over. "Peter, go. I'm a little busy at the moment."

"So am I" Peter countered as he tried to get the goon to release him.

"He said he was busy." Peter was shoved backwards, landing against someone else who took the opportunity to land a punch. Peter went down with a thud.

"That's it" he said as he stood, ignoring the pain. "You are under arrest for striking a federal agent..." he reached for his badge and all hell broke loose.

* * *

Peter took a sip of water, gargled and spit it out, noting it was finally devoid of blood. He wiggled his jaw and opened his mouth, checking for any loose teeth. Satisfied that he came out of the fight, mostly unscathed, he washed his face and exited the bathroom.

"Put that back on" he ordered, seeing the ice pack lying next to Neal. The ex-con was sprawled out on the bed, already sporting a nasty black eye.

"Pull your shirt up."

"Peter, I didn't know."

"Shut up." Peter sat on the edge and lifted Neal's shirt. He pressed lightly on the darkened area and Neal hissed.

"You said it didn't hurt."

"I lied." Neal moved away from Peter's touch.

"You'll get that checked out tomorrow once we get home."

"Tomorrow?" Neal sat up. "Peter you said I had a week..."

Peter stood. "I assumed you wanted to go back...you don't? Do you have more bars you want to visit? Neal what were you doing there? Couldn't you find a better neighborhood?"

"I grew up in that neighborhood" Neal spit out. "Not all of us grew up in posh surroundings." Neal stood with a slight groan and walked to the bathroom.

"You know, the next time I'm in a bar brawl I want to be drunk first." Peter said loudly as the bathroom door slammed shut.

A few minutes later Neal returned looking rather pale. He grabbed the ice pack and settled in the lone chair, refusing to meet Peter's gaze.

Peter sat on the bed, keeping his focus on Neal, watching for any signs that his friend was in too much pain.

"Peter, why do you think he did it?"

Peter shrugged.

"I needed to do this..."

"Why Neal?" Peter questioned. "Why was this so important?"

"She was my mother" Neal said simply.

"A mother you haven't seen in years" Peter countered as he leaned back against the wall, eyes still on his friend.

Neal closed his eyes as he fidgeted in the chair, trying to get comfortable.

"Neal you were a child. Anything that happened wasn't your fault."

"No, it wasn't" Neal admitted as he played with the ice pack. "And I didn't mean what I said earlier. I know you didn't grow up with a lot of money."

"But I had two parents" Peter put forth with a weary smile. "I'm sorry Neal. I know how rough it must have been."

"You don't know half of it" Neal quietly said as he stood and paced a couple of steps.

"Neal, I'm listening if you want to talk."

Neal stopped and glanced at Peter.

"Peter, I'll talk if you indulge in my idea."

"And that... is?" Peter asked hesitantly.

"A road trip home with stops along the way. Peter, for once in my life I want to do something normal. What do you think?"

"The tickets are paid for" Peter casually remarked. "It cost more money to get a flight tomorrow..."

"Peter, I can't go home. Not yet. And I can't stay here." Neal paused for a breath. "Peter, for a few days can you just be my friend?"

It was rare that Peter heard such emotion in Neal's voice. Ever a con, there were few times that Neal couldn't keep that mask in place. This was one of those times.

Peter didn't know what to do and he stared at Neal until finally the younger man turned away; though Peter didn't miss that look of despair in Neal's eyes.

For reasons Peter didn't understand and maybe never would Neal needed to do this.

"OK Neal" Peter finally said, finding his voice. "I'll go make some phone calls and you figure out where we're going." He waited but Neal didn't say anything so Peter left.

* * *

It took Peter nearly two hours and several phone calls to finally get the ok; and he wasn't sure it was an ok...more like make sure he doesn't get into any trouble along the way. Peter missed Hughes but it sounded like his old boss was enjoying retirement and had no plans to return to the bureau.

When he returned he found Neal stretched out on the bed pouring over a map.

"Where'd you get that?" Peter asked as he sat on the edge.

"Gift shop" Neal answered." They sell everything down there."

Peter noticed the lines on the map; it seemed Neal already had their trip mapped out.

"Neal, what's the game plan?"

Neal glanced sideways. "We got the ok?"

"We did."

"Thank you" Neal whispered with a small sigh of relief, returning his focus to the map.

"So, where are we going?" Peter asked again when Neal grew quiet.

"I thought we drive north and head up to Chicago."

"OK" Peter agreed evenly. "What are we going to do there?"

"Really Peter?" Neal chuckled. "They have a great art museum..."

"Neal, is that a good idea?"

Neal sat up...a little too fast and he grimaced in pain. Peter noticed but kept quiet.

"Peter, I'm not going to get myself or you in trouble. I'm going to be a tourist, plain and simple."

Peter nodded. "What else?"

Neal showed the agent the notepad he was writing on. "There's a Cub game tomorrow night that I already bought tickets for..." He paused, watching Peter's reaction. "I assumed you'd want to go."

Peter smiled. "Never been to Wrigley Field" he admitted. "Go on."

"We'll get a hotel downtown and take the EL to the game..."

"The EL?"

"Their train" Neal answered.

"You don't take the subway here" Peter countered with a hint of amusement. "Am I going to recognize you for the next week?"

"Maybe this isn't a good idea." Neal tossed the map aside and stood.

"Neal..." Peter grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry, I need to get used to this...to you."

Neal shook himself free. "You want to know the real me, for one week you'll get it. Be careful what you wish for. You may not like who I am."

"Or I may like you better." Peter said, trying to lighten the mood. "Neal, I know you who are, ok?"

"Do you?"

"Yes, I do." Peter held his hands up. "Let's get back to the trip. What else do you have planned?"

Neal reached for the note pad and handed it to Peter.

"I figure we'd spend two nights in Chicago and then move on."

Peter nodded. "Planetarium sounds like fun." He looked over the list. "Where do we go after Chicago?"

Neal shrugged. "I was thinking we could stop in Cleveland but..."

"They have the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame."

"Seriously?" Neal stared at him.

"Come on Neal. Buddy Holly. The Big Bopper. Elvis."

Neal rolled his eyes. "OK, one night in Cleveland. I'm sure there's a museum or two there."

"And then?"

Neal shrugged. "We'll figure it out as we go if that's ok?"

"It is. Can we spend the last night in Ithaca before heading home?"

Neal eyed him suspiciously. "Why there?"

"You can meet my parents." Peter shrugged. "They know about you so I'm sure they'd finally like to meet you."

Neal nodded. "There is something I need to do in the morning before we leave."

"There are two things you need to do" Peter stated. "I checked downstairs and there's a walk in clinic a block away..."

"Peter, I'm fine."

"We'll let the doctor decide that." Peter held his finger up. "Don't argue."

"Whatever" Neal mumbled. "I need to go out and buy some shorts and t-shirts. And then we'll have a discussion about the tracking anklet."

"No way... No discussion. It stays on."

"Discussion Peter. That's all I'm asking for. Listen to me and if you say no afterwards, I'll live with it."

"I'm saying no now" Peter said as he followed Neal out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

"I told you I was fine" Neal said as they exited the clinic.

"He didn't say fine."Peter countered as he stopped and forced Neal to come to a halt. "He said you were lucky but you need to take it easy."

"That's my plan." Neal walked around the agent and headed towards the car.

"Neal." Peter followed. "We haven't finished our conversation from last night."

"I think we have." Neal glanced at his leg in triumph and then at Peter's face. "Are you having second thoughts? Peter I promised I will not run and I will not go after my father. Please don't make me wear it."

"Neal, that's my neck we're talking about. If you run..."

"I won't. Please Peter. For a few days can I be normal? No cons, no tracking device and no looking over my shoulder."

It was the same plea Neal had used last night and against his better judgment Peter had relented. As little as he knew about Neal's life he knew enough to know nothing had ever been normal.

"Neal..."

"I won't run. Peter I have nowhere to go and no way to find my father. I can't keep begging..." with a deep sigh Neal gave up and entered the car.

"Where to?" Peter asked as he started the car. Wordlessly, Neal handed him a piece of paper.

"A cemetery" Peter said and then glanced sideways. "Neal, who are you going to see?"

Neal didn't answer; instead he burrowed deeper into his seat and turned his attention out the window.

Peter checked the directions once more and then pulled out, keeping his focus on the street names and the unfamiliar roads. It took nearly an hour and two wrong turns before Peter saw the sign and whistled triumphantly.

Neal jumped out as soon as the car was still.

"At least you can do is wait for me." Peter hurried after the ex-con.

Neal had stopped and was studying a map of the cemetery.

"This way." Neal took off and Peter had no choice but to follow. Finally Neal stopped in front of a grave stone.

"Who was he?" Peter asked as he eyed his friend.

"He owned the bar we were at. I went there looking for him..."

"And ended up playing pool" Peter finished.

"He taught me how to play." Neal chuckled softly. "In ways he was my first partner in crime."

"Wonderful" Peter muttered. "How old were you? Ten?"

"Nine." Neal glanced Peter's way. "I was always looking into the window watching the men play and one day I snuck in. Sal caught me right away." Neal motioned towards the grave.

"He saw me eying someone's lunch and gave me a hamburger. Told me later he never saw someone finish a hamburger that fast."

Neal knew Peter was watching him and waiting for more. Sighing he knelt down and traced the letters with a finger. "He was so angry with me when I told him I was leaving. He wanted me to go to college; said I was too smart to become a bum."

"He was right" Peter quietly agreed.

After a few minutes Neal stood and started walking. He found a bench near the entrance and sat.

"In the beginning Sal didn't ask a lot of questions. He'd give me odd jobs around the bar and always made sure I had something to eat before I went home."

"Neal, did you have food at home?"

The ex-con shrugged. "We did until the money ran out and that seemed like all the time."

"Where was Ellen?"  
"Working. Peter, she never said anything but I think she was paying both rents."

"And your mom? Neal did she work?"

Neal sighed. "She did until she didn't." Neal stood and walked a few feet away. "You don't get to ask about my mom. Not unless the anklet stays off."

"Neal, why does everything have to be a negotiation with you?"

"Peter, it's how I get what I want. You think everything comes easy for me. It doesn't. I learned long ago how to get what I need."

"And what do you need right now?" Peter stood. "I'm guessing you'd give anything to find your father."

Neal turned, eyes shining bright with anger. "You're right Peter. I want to find my father and make him pay. Not for this." He swung his arms around. "Not for making me grow up here with no father and a mother that checked out long ago. No." Neal's voice faded and he looked away.

Peter neared him. "Neal, keep talking."

Neal laughed bitterly. "He came back in my life and made me look like a fool and I begged him to help you and he walked away..." Neal shook his head. "He ruined the best thing I had going for me."

With a deep breath Neal turned away from Peter. It took the agent a few minutes to realize what Neal meant.

"Neal, we're not ruined. Far from it." He walked into Neal's view. "Hey. We'll be fine..."

"Peter, your wife hates me and I don't blame her."

"She doesn't hate you. Neal, it's been rough on all of us including you. But she doesn't blame you, neither do I."

"Well, you should." Neal walked by Peter and exited the cemetery.

* * *

Peter yawned; bored after nearly two hours of driving. Neal slept in the passenger seat, with his head turned towards the window.

Peter eyed the next sign and decided in twenty miles he would turn off in search of lunch.

Neal stirred with a quiet groan as his arms instinctively clutched at his stomach. Neal had refused to fill the pain killer so he was relying on over the counter medicine to relieve the pain, and so far they weren't working too well.

The doctor deemed it a deep bruise and said he would be fine, though he thought Neal should follow up with a doctor if it didn't get better.

Peter cringed as he recalled Neal's cry of pain when he was kicked in the stomach.

Neal groaned again and Peter reached over and shook him.

"Neal. Wake up." It took a couple of shakes for the ex-con to come around.

"Peter, are we there?" Neal sat up straighter.

"Not even close" Peter said wearily. "It's time for another pill. Take one."

"I'm ok" Neal mumbled as he stared out the window. "Not much to look at is there?"

"No kidding" Peter agreed. "I'm so sick of corn fields that I get excited when I see a cow."

Neal laughed and then grabbed his stomach. "Maybe you're right" he admitted as he reached for the Advil and his bottle of water.

"Is it getting worse?"

"No." Neal answered before downing the pill.

"Make sure you tell me if it does."

"Yes dad" Neal remarked sarcastically. "Why are you turning off?"

"I'm hungry and I need a break." Peter took the exit and decided to go right following the food signs.

"Where are we?"

"Middle of nowhere" Peter said as he eyed a bevy of restaurant signs. "How does Denny's sound?"

"Boring" Neal answered as he looked out the front window. "Peter, there's a Steak and Shake. Can we go there?"

"Seriously?"

Neal nodded.

"Fine." Peter didn't care as long as he got food.

A half hour later their food was ready. Peter chose a grilled chicken sandwich without fries and a diet coke. He watched in envy as a steak burger was placed in front of Neal along with a very enticing looking chocolate shake.

"Wow." Peter's eyes widened.

"Peter, you're on vacation. Order one." Neal took a spoon and scooped some whipped cream into his mouth.

"I'm saving my calories for tomorrow" Peter said before taking a bite of his sandwich.

"What's tomorrow?" Neal asked as he continued to watch Peter eye his shake. Finally he flagged a waitress down and asked for an empty glass.

"Drink it" he ordered as he pushed the glass towards Peter.

"That's good" Peter said as he licked his lips, savoring the taste. "I don't remember the last time I had a chocolate shake" he added wistfully.

"Probably before you married Elizabeth" Neal suggested as he dug into his sandwich.

"Maybe." Peter shrugged; quiet permeated the air as they ate in silence.

"OK. Tomorrow" Peter began when his sandwich was gone. "We'll check out the Art Institute and the Planetarium in the morning..."

"How much time do I get in the Art Institute?" Neal interrupted. "I was checking online and there are a couple of exhibitions I want to see."

"You'll get as much time as you want...as long as I don't see you taking notes."

"Peter, I'm insulted..." Neal smiled. "I'm just a tourist, nothing more."

"Remember that" Peter retorted. "Afterwards I'd like to check out Navy Pier and have dinner at Billy Goat Tavern."

"Cheezborger. Cheezborger." Neal repeated much to Peter's annoyance.

"Finish up" Peter said with a roll of his eyes. "We should have a little time at the hotel before catching a train to the game."

"El" Neal corrected. "While we're here, talk like the natives."

"With a shake of his head Peter stood. "I'm going to use the bathroom before we leave. I suggest you do the same."

"Yes Dad" Neal said loudly, as Peter walked away.

* * *

Newly showered and feeling somewhat refreshed Peter read the paper while he waited for Neal to get ready.

"Neal, tell me about Sal" Peter said when the ex-con emerged from the bathroom.

"No more talking." Neal toed on a new pair of sneakers.

"Neal, your negotiation works both ways." Peter eyed the naked ankle.

"Fine. What do you want to know?"

Peter put the paper down and studied his friend's face. "I find it kind of odd that a grown man took such interest in a little boy."

"Peter." Neal's eyes narrowed. "Why would you go there?"

"Just saying" Peter remarked evenly.

"No." Neal shook his head. "He was married with four grown children. He emigrated from Italy when he was a child and he was so proud that all his kids graduated college." Neal shrugged.

"You said he was your first partner in crime."

Neal nodded.

"How?"

Neal looked away with a weary smile. "He was surprised at how well I took to pool so I'd come in after school and challenge someone to a game." Neal chuckled. "Sal would pretend to be angry and finally relent when the other person agreed to the game."

"And you always won right?"

Neal nodded. "I was too short for a proper shot so I'd carry this little stool around the table and..." Neal looked Peter's way. "We were supposed to split the money but Sal gave most of it to me."

"How long did this go on?"

"Until someone called the cops" Neal quietly answered. "I was told to stay away from the bar but I would sneak over there now and then."

"Did you miss the con?"

"I missed the money" Neal countered with a slight shrug. "For the first time in my life I wasn't hungry. And occasionally I would go down to the drug store and buy a comic book."

Peter looked away from Neal's scrutiny. As much as he wanted to know about Neal's childhood, it was hard to hear about it and even harder to imagine Neal as a child, longing for food.

"Neal, what did you do next?"

"I did what I had to."

Peter stood. "That doesn't tell me much." He neared the ex-con. "Did you find other ways to get money?" Neal stepped back, refusing to meet Peter's gaze.

"Let's just say my life of crime started early and didn't stop..." he paused and briefly met Peter's eyes. "It didn't stop until you put me in jail."

Peter nodded and then grabbed his wallet off the table and stuffed it in the back pocket of his shorts.

"Take a jacket with you" Peter said. "It gets cold by the lake." He grabbed his own jacket and put it on. "We'll stop by a store and pick up the disposable camera you mentioned earlier."

"Wait. Peter." Neal grabbed the agent's arm. "You're not going to say anything?"

"What do you want me to say?" He shook his arm free. "I'm not going to judge you and I doubt you want my pity. I am sorry..." Peter smiled weakly. "I wish I could have helped that little boy...but maybe I can help the man he became."

"Peter, you have." Neal looked away as his eyes misted up, clearly embarrassed by his emotions.

"Don't start crying. You know I can't handle that."

Neal chuckled as a quiet sob escaped. "Sorry" he managed to eke out in a quivering voice.

Peter reached an arm around Neal and reeled him in. "I'll handle it for a few minutes" Peter whispered as he wrapped both arms around Neal.

Neal took a couple of deep shuddering breaths as he buried his face against Peter's shoulder. A few minutes later he pulled away with a weary smile.

"Thank you" he mumbled as he escaped into the bathroom, exiting five minutes later, looking more composed.

"Ready for a baseball game?" he asked.

Peter nodded as he gently guided Neal out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Peter opened an eye and groaned as the sun shone brightly in. He rubbed a hand over his aching forehead and finally turned over and glanced at the other bed. It was empty.

"Shit" he muttered as he forced himself to a seated position, quelling the queasy feeling that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Neal?" Peter called out, praying that he'd get an answer. None came so he forced himself out of bed and staggered towards the bathroom.

It was there, taped to the mirror that he found the note and finally allowed himself to breathe.

_Peter, _

_Don't panic. I went for a walk and didn't want to wake you. I'll bring back coffee. _

_Neal_

Peter relieved himself, washed his hands and stumbled back to the bed, cursing the previous night even though he couldn't remember much. The game was uneventful but the bar hopping afterwards...why in god's name did he allow Neal to talk him into that?

"You're no longer twenty-five" he whispered as he stretched out on the bed, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep. His hope was dashed when Neal walked in, whistling loudly.

"You're awake" Neal exclaimed, slamming the door behind him. "There's a Dunkin Donuts down the block if you're hungry."

Peter cursed as he threw an arm over his eyes.

"Peter, get up. You're wasting the day in bed."

Peter moaned as he struggled to sit up. "Give me an Advil and the coffee and one quiet hour. Please."

"Peter, it's already late..."

"How do you do that?" Peter asked, as he struggled to sit up and reached for the coffee, savoring the strong smell with a contented sigh.

"Do what?"

"Sound like you're four years old when you don't get your way."

"I do not."

"You're doing it again" Peter remarked, with a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Neal, I promise you will get as much time as you want in the Art Institute. I just need an hour and I'll be good to go." Peter slid back down and rested his head on the pillow, briefly closing his eyes, almost asleep when Neal walked out.

* * *

Peter made notes as he checked the paper and several maps on the desk. He glanced at the clock; Neal had been gone nearly three hours, most likely sulking somewhere. He called several times but Neal refused to answer and finally Peter gave up, knowing Neal would be back when he was ready.

Peter was just finishing up the day's plans when Neal casually strolled in, carrying several bags. He placed them on the floor and then sat on the bed furthest from the desk.

"Are you done sulking?"

"I wasn't sulking."

"Come over here so you can see what I've changed."

"Don't I get a say? This is my vacation."

Peter sighed. "Neal, this is not a vacation. This is a road trip home because you begged me and I gave in. You do get a say and if you don't like the changes, we'll make more. Can you please get up?"

"You said the magic word" Neal remarked as he stood and walked over.

Peter pushed over a new agenda. "I already checked with the hotel and we can stay another night. That way you'll have plenty of time at the museum. When you're done we'll take a water taxi to Navy Pier." Peter pointed on the map. "There's a jazz fest at Grant Park tonight so after we eat I'd thought we'd go there."

Peter glanced up. "Sound ok so far?"

Neal nodded.

"Tomorrow, we can hit the Planetarium in the morning and if you'll indulge me, the White Sox are back in town and I'd like to check out the stadium tomorrow night."

"And the rest of tomorrow?" Neal asked.

"We can do whatever. Elizabeth suggested we walk down State Street or if you'd prefer we can hit another museum."

"Works for me" Neal said as he settled back on the bed. "Can we go soon?"

Peter nodded. "I'm good. Just no more bars. I don't think I can handle it."

Neal managed a small chuckle. "You had a blast last night" he said evenly, slyly glancing at the agent. "You do remember right?"

Peter shook his head no.

Neal smiled broadly.

"Don't tell me I danced on any tables."

"No, you didn't."

"Are you going to tell me?" Peter asked, after several minutes of silence.

"That's quite an area around Wrigley Field" Neal commented with a chuckle. "We must have hit every bar in the vicinity..."

"Neal just tell me what happened" Peter remarked sharply, annoyed with Neal's stalling tactics.

"Well, just for the record it was your idea to go from bar to bar."

"No it wasn't."

"Yes it was" Neal countered. "I only wanted to get a drink...it was you who wanted to check them all out."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Fine it was my idea. We made it back and I don't see any new bruises so I'm assuming no bar fights."

"Nope. No fights." Neal was smiling like a Cheshire cat.

"Neal, spit it out already."

Neal's smile left...briefly. "The last bar we hit wasn't a good idea. We didn't belong there though we might have looked like we did."

Peter had it. He stood and neared the bed. "Neal, that's enough with the cryptic talk. What did I do last night?"

"It was rather sweet..."

"NEAL!" Peter yelled loudly.

"Let's just say someone complimented you on your cute boyfriend."

Peter's eyes widened a bit. "And?" he prompted.

"After you denied it, that someone started flirting with me."

"Tell me I didn't do anything stupid" Peter remarked quietly, as he sat down heavily, fervently trying to piece together the previous evening. He gave up quickly and looked pleadingly at Neal, waiting for the ex-con to spill the rest.

"You said I was taken, put your arm around me and dragged me towards the exit. And then you promptly threw up outside." Neal's smile returned. "Peter, you sure know how to ruin a moment."

Peter sighed deeply as a few murky memories waded to the surface. "No more alcohol on this trip. Understand?"

"I wasn't drunk and lucky for you I got us back...though that cab cost a pretty penny."

"We took a cab home?"

Neal nodded. "Wow, you really don't remember anything do you?"

Peter shrugged. "Why'd we take a cab?"

"Elevated train. Stairs. You weigh too much for me to carry." Neal grinned. "I had to give the cab driver a hefty tip to get you inside."

"Neal, I swear if any of this gets back to Elizabeth..."

"Scout's honor." Neal held his right hand up. "Anything that happens in Chicago stays in Chicago."

Peter eyed his friend. "Anything else I need to know?"

Neal shook his head with a smile still playing on his face.

"Are you ready to go?"

Neal jumped up. "Just waiting for you." He walked out with Peter gingerly following him.

* * *

Peter settled back against the wall and nursed his coffee, happy to take a break. After three hours of following Neal around Peter gave up. Neal was in his element and though he tried to keep Peter involved with his vast knowledge, it was Peter who finally had had enough and wandered towards the gift shop.

He knew from the brochure that the museum was big on Impressionists and Neal was staked out in the main room going over each painting with an eagle eye, taking in every detail.

He was nearly done with his coffee when he saw Neal approaching.

"Peter, are you bored? Do you want to go?"

The agent shook his head. "I'm fine and we'll stay as long as you want."

Neal smiled. "I think Mozzie would love to see the paintings in the Regenstein Hall. Both Degas and Renoir are well represented."

"See or steal?" Peter commented as Neal sat down.

"Peter."

"You didn't answer the question." Peter took something from one of the bags. "Here, I got you this." He handed Neal a book.

"Peter, thank you." Neal started flipping through the giant book showcasing the most famous paintings at the museum along with information about the artists.

"You have to come home with a souvenir..." Peter's voice trailed off as he noticed the look on Neal's face.

"Neal, what's wrong? If you don't like it we can take it back."

"No I love it." Neal glanced away with a quiet sigh as he eyed the people walking past them, his mind bringing forth memories he long ago tucked away.

He knew Peter was watching him and waiting for answers but there were some things he wasn't sure he could share.

"Neal?"

Neal turned his head.

"Does this have something to do with your mom?"

The ex-con nodded.

"I'm listening if you're willing to tell me." Peter smiled reassuringly. "Anything you say stays with me."

Neal nodded gratefully.

"My mom used to bring home art books from the library and these little tubs of paint and she'd mixed them together and make all these wonderful colors." Neal took a deep breath. "She'd danced around the table and I'd followed and stare at the blended colors as if it was magic." Neal glanced the agent's way. "It's the only time she was ever happy. The books and the paints seemed to bring life back to her..." Neal paused, momentarily lost in the few happy memories from his childhood.

"Was your mom an artist? Peter asked, pulling Neal back to the present.

Neal shrugged. "I learned how to draw from her but I think painting was just a hobby."

"She never talked about it?"

"No." Neal shrugged. "She never said much. Even when we drew and painted together, she was quiet but she was smiling." Neal chuckled softly. "It was our special time together though it never lasted for long." He shrugged. "The sadness would always creep back and I'd beg her to keep painting but she'd go in the bathroom and close the door."

Neal smiled weakly at Peter. "I wish I had known then what she was afraid of."

"Neal, what could you have done? You were just a little boy."

"I know." Neal put the book aside. "I don't know how much to blame my dad." He eyed Peter. "Is it wrong to hate him for what happened?"

"Do you hate him?"

Neal lowered his head.

"I know how much you wanted him to be innocent. Neal for your sake, I wanted that too."

"And look what it cost you" Neal quietly said. "Two months in jail for something my father did. Peter, after everything that has happened, how can you say we're going to be fine?"

"Because I don't see any other options" Peter answered with a weary smile. "Hey, look at me." Peter reached over and lightly placed his hand on Neal's arm and waited for Neal to comply. "Do you think I'd do this for anyone?"

"I know you're loyal to your friends" Neal responded as he freed his arm and sat back in his chair. "Where do I stand?"

Peter smiled as he sat back and mirrored Neal's position, crossing his arms against his chest.

"Neal, I wouldn't do this trip for everyone. But I'm doing it for you."

Neal chuckled. "Most would say that's not an answer."

"You're a smart man Neal. Read between the lines."

Neal looked away with a weary sigh. "I can't fix what my father did."

"No you can't. Neal, you can't keep living with the guilt, it's not helping you and it's not helping me."

"I know." Neal stood and took a couple of steps before returning to the table. He placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin against his fists, with his eyes never leaving Peter's face. "Sometimes I wish my father never showed up."

"Would not knowing be better?"

"It would have been for you" Neal quickly countered as he stood again and stretched. "Peter, do you like Greek Mythology?" Neal asked suddenly and Peter knew this conversation was over...for now.

"I do."

"Come with me. I'm going to see that section now and we'll see how much you remember from your college days."

"After last night I remember nothing" Peter retorted as he followed Neal. He stopped the ex-con before they entered the room.

"We will finish this conversation later, ok?"

"Can I say no?"

"Not while the anklet is off."

Neal glanced down at his ankle and then shrugged. "If I don't have a choice we'll finish it later. Do I get to ask you questions?"

"No" Peter answered emphatically. "I don't believe that's part of the deal."

"Sometimes deals are meant to be broken" Neal said as he walked past the agent, eyes shining bright with excitement.


	5. Chapter 5

Peter settled back in his seat with a contented sigh as he eyed the beautiful park; lacking fans but not surprising considering the White Sox were in last place.

Peter didn't feel that way. He loved the atmosphere and the smells and the memories of his childhood. The park had a beer garden behind center field and Peter had settled there, enjoying a drink as he watched the game.

Neal grew bored; Peter knew he wasn't a fan of the game and this was his second baseball game in three nights. He wandered off about an hour ago and Peter wasn't worried; though he did question his own lack of concern.

Something had changed in the past few days; Peter stopped thinking of Neal as his responsibility and started viewing him as a friend.

It's not that Neal wasn't a friend before but part of him enjoyed Neal being free and not attached to that damn tracking device. And for his part Neal was different, less reserved and Peter could get used to this...though they both knew this wasn't going to last; only a few more days and back to reality.

Peter finished off his beer and flagged a vendor down.

He was finishing up his second hotdog when Neal sat down beside him.

"How many beers have you had?"

"You sound like Elizabeth" Peter retorted with a sideways glance.

"So she's noticed your drinking also?" Neal eyed the stack of plastic cups on the ground. "Does it help you forget?"

"You don't get to ask the questions" Peter spit out bitterly as he lowered himself in his seat with his eyes on the game.

"You talk while you sleep" Neal quietly said.

"If it bothers you, I'll get my own room" Peter countered swiftly with more anger than Neal had anticipated. The ex-con reached into the bag he was holding and brought out a baseball cap. "You need to come home with a souvenir" he said, mimicking Peter's words from the day before. "I got this for Mozzie." He pulled out another cap. "I didn't know they made camouflage baseball caps."

Peter smiled despite himself. "Thank you" he managed in an even voice. "And I'm sure Mozzie will love that."

"What's going on in the game?" Neal asked when the silence became deafening.

"Sox are losing" Peter answered.

"Peter I thought this trip was about us..."

"It is."

"Well, the last I checked you're part of us" Neal stated quietly.

"Semantics" Peter mumbled as his eyes wandered, looking for another vendor.

"You're not getting another one..."

"Stop being my wife" Peter said, much too loudly. A couple of fans nearby glanced their way.

"Can I be your friend?" Neal asked in a low voice. Beside him, Peter sighed audibly.

"Peter, I'm not going to pretend I didn't hear you last night, ok?"

"Suit yourself."

Neal sighed. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned it but Peter was loud, almost crying as he begged someone to get him out. Neal knew the feeling and if Peter needed to talk, he would listen.

"Peter, I understand what you went through."

"It's not the same" Peter quickly put forth as he turned and bought a bag of peanuts from a young woman.

"Here." He handed the bag to Neal. "It will keep you busy and quiet" he added somberly.

"Peter, did you ever cry in jail?"

"Did you?" Peter countered swiftly, wanting the focus off of himself.

"Once" Neal admitted as he ripped open the bag and grabbed a few peanuts. "The night my first sentence was up I was so worried about Kate and I didn't think you'd take the deal." Neal managed a weary smile as he caught Peter watching him. "I buried my face in my pillow so others couldn't hear me."

"That's the worse sound" Peter quietly said. "During the night I'd hear others crying..."

"Did you?" Neal asked again.

"No." Peter shrugged as he reached in and grabbed a handful of peanuts. "Somehow I managed not to but after I was released..."

"The floodgates opened" Neal finished for him.

Peter simply nodded as the crowd erupted for a homerun. They stood with the rest and watched the fireworks go off.

"Do they do that after every homerun?" Neal asked as the crowd settled down.

"I guess." Peter shrugged as they both grew quiet with their focus on the game, though they continued to pass the peanuts back and forth.

"The weather is perfect" Peter said as he glanced up at the clear sky with the moon peeking out just over the leftfield stands.

"I missed the fresh air" Peter said a few minutes later. "My first night out Elizabeth and I took a long walk and I didn't want to go back in. I'm not sure how you lasted four years in there."

"I didn't have a choice. But you saved my life by taking the deal."

"How's that?" Peter looked over at his friend.

"I wasn't staying there and I'm not sure I would have escaped alive a second time."

"Would Kate have been worth it?"

Neal shrugged. "Sometimes I think she was the one."

"I don't." Peter chuckled softly. "You'll find someone. Maybe you already have." He glanced at Neal to gauge his reaction but Neal didn't flinch.

"Peter, can I tell you about a dream I've had?"

"If you must" Peter responded curtly, not a fan of dreams or their hidden meanings.

Peter's tone didn't deter Neal; it was something he wanted to talk about for a long time and this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Again the crowd erupted as the tying run scored. Neal glanced sideways and smiled; ever the fan Peter was cheering for the home team.

Neal lifted his feet and hung them over the empty chair in front of him, eyeing his ankle. He would be eternally grateful for the few days of freedom Peter gave him and running never crossed his mind. He walked around the stadium watching people and checking out the food vendors and besides a few women who gave him a second glance, no one stared. No one noticed as Neal blissfully blended in with the crowd.

"Do you miss it?"

Neal chuckled. "What do you think?"

"You know it goes back on."

"I know." Neal's smile faded.

"Neal it gives you a taste of what freedom will be. It's up to you to not break the law."

"Peter, I've learned my lesson. You'll catch me again and I'll go back to jail."

"Not me."

Neal glanced over with a surprised look.

"Peter you won't have a choice..."

"There are always choices. Neal, it's not the same as before. I can't put you back there and I won't catch you again."

"You'll lose your job..." Neal paused, at a loss for words. "Peter you would do that for me?"

Peter shrugged nonchalantly as he carefully cracked open a peanut shell. "Does that surprise you?"

"A little bit" Neal admitted as he leaned back in his chair; trying to digest Peter's confession. "Peter, I don't know what to say."

"That's a first" Peter retorted with a smile. "Don't break the law and we won't have to worry about this."

Peter stood. "I'm going to get a soda. Do you want one?"

Neal nodded and once alone, he continued to think about what Peter said. Lost in thought he didn't realize the agent had returned until a cup was plopped in his lap, nearly falling over.

"You didn't hear me say your name" Peter said as he sat down. "I shocked you didn't I?" It was a rhetorical question that Neal didn't bother answering.

"Tell me about your dream" Peter said when Neal grew too morose for his liking.

"Now it might sound ridiculous..."

"Neal!"

"Fine." Neal straightened up in his seat and slightly turned so he could see Peter easier. "It's the day my sentence ends and you take the anklet off and you dismiss me, wishing me well." Neal looked away with an embarrassed sigh. "I kept looking over my shoulder and finally you disappeared and I was alone." Neal shrugged and lowered his head.

"Neal, do you really think I would do that?"

"I wouldn't blame you" Neal answered, "especially after everything that just happened."

"I have too much time invested in you. Neal I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to."

"I don't." Neal stood and stretched his legs. "I'm going to walk around. Want me to bring you anything back?"

"A Churros sounds good" Peter answered. "Get the chocolate one."

Neal nodded and took two steps and then stopped. "Peter, please no more beer. I don't want a repeat of the other night."

"I'm done" Peter said with a hint of annoyance as he held up his diet coke. "Besides, they stopped serving after the 7th inning." Peter turned back to the game just in time to see the White Sox take the lead and the few fans there cheered like crazy.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when they made it back to the hotel but Neal didn't want to go in so they walked a few blocks until they found an open diner. The clientele was what Peter expected at that time of the night in a big city. In one corner sat a homeless man who tried to blend in with his surroundings, guarding all his possessions in two plastic bags.

On the other side sat a couple, mostly likely an escort and her latest conquest; a middle aged man who nervously looked around as the young woman barely paid him any attention. She kept stealing glances Neal's way but the ex-con didn't seem to notice her.

He stared at his coffee as if the swirling dark liquid hid a secret message.

Peter stirred cream into his cup and took a bite of the blueberry muffin smothered with imitation butter.

"Earth to Neal" he whispered as he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. Neal glanced his way with a pensive smile and then looked out the window as a young man walked by with his golden retriever.

"Neal, you've barely said a word since we left the game. Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"We start heading back home tomorrow" Neal said in a voice barely audible. "I get tethered back to my leash..."

"Neal." Peter interrupted before his friend could finish. "You're halfway done with your sentence. You'll get there..."

"And then what?" Neal asked. "I don't want you to lose your job because of me."

"Neal, are you so sure you'll go back to that life?"

"I know nothing else" Neal replied forlornly. "Soon or later..."

"No." Peter shook his head as he pushed the half eaten muffin aside. "You have options and you have friends who will help you."

"Peter, I have a penchant for expensive things and a strong desire to never be that little boy staring in the window at someone's lunch."

"OK Oliver Twist" Peter said with a smile that faded quickly when he saw the anger in Neal's eyes. He grabbed his friend's arm before Neal could make his getaway.

"Neal I'm sorry..."

"You'll never understand what it was like."

"You're right" Peter agreed as he released Neal's arm. "I don't understand what you went through and I'm not trying to make light of it." Peter's brows furrowed as he studied his friend. "My door is always open if you need a free meal."

Neal laughed despite his anger.

"Do you think we can get an extra week?"

"No" answered firmly. "I miss home and I think you do too."

Neal shrugged as he leaned back in the booth. "Peter, if I screw up you need to do your job."

"OK." Peter figured it was easier to give in than to go around in circles. "Neal, I want you to consider something...think about it before you say no."

"I already don't like it" Neal muttered.

"That's thinking about it" Peter said sarcastically. He eyed the younger man; Neal's eyes darted everywhere as he avoided Peter's gaze.

"Did you notice the hooker over there?" Neal whispered with a slight nod towards the couple.

Peter simply rolled his eyes. "Stop avoiding the conversation" he admonished, trying to draw Neal's attention away from the young woman.

"I'm all ears." Neal leaned towards Peter with a huge grin and the agent was momentarily taken aback at the sight; this he hadn't missed. The Caffrey mask as he annoying coined Neal's fake smile; Peter always wondered what was hiding behind it and with everything he had learned in the past couple of days, he knew it barely touched the surface.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?" Neal's smile left suddenly, replaced with confusion and a more natural expression. "Peter, what's wrong?"

"Nothing" The agent muttered as he returned his attention to the couple nearby.

"He's not getting any tonight" Neal whispered as he followed Peter's gaze.

"How do you know?" Peter asked.

"She's been looking at me since we got here." Neal smiled again.

Peter's eyes widened with surprise. "You haven't looked that way once. How do you know she was watching you?"

"Peter, I've been running most of my life. I know when I'm being watched."

"I don't believe you" Peter exclaimed as he finished up his coffee.

Neal shrugged. "Fine, you want the truth. I can see her reflection through the window." He chuckled quietly. "Peter, everything has a rational explanation."

With a roll of his eyes Peter waved the waitress over and ordered another coffee. "Are you ready to listen?"

Neal nodded.

"I want you to go back to school..."

"Peter. No." Neal shook his head.

"At least get your GED."

I could pass that now..."

"Good." Peter smiled. "Think how well you'll do if you study. Neal..." Peter paused, and studied his friend's face. "It's for your own good and you'll need it if you want a real job."

"And what if I don't?"

"My help will only get you so far." Peter shrugged. "There's only so much I can do...the rest is up to you."

Neal stood just as the waitress returned with a fresh cup of coffee. "I'm going back" he said as he threw a few bucks on the table.

Peter apologized to the waitress, paid the bill and quickly followed Neal out.

* * *

Neal leaned against the window and stared out at the darkness that permeated the city in the middle of the night. A few of the buildings were lit up but most were dark as the city slept. Neal had been sleeping until Peter woke him with his constant babbling and cries for help.

Neal had thought about waking him but the agent had settled down and gone back to sleep, snoring loudly. Neal's admiration for Elizabeth grew with each passing night and he longed for his own room and personal space.

But it was also Peter's presence, his assurance that he would be there that made Neal think and hope that the future was going to be ok.

Neal never thought about the future; as a child it was about survival and when he left home with the true knowledge of his family it was about living for the moment and getting what he wanted. The future wasn't an option when you were constantly looking over your shoulder and running from the authorities.

In Peter Neal saw another way; the right way as the agent so often reminded him and Neal wanted that...but he wasn't sure it was possible.

He wasn't sure that he could live up to Peter's expectations and above all, he didn't want to let Peter down.

And what scared him the most was that he would be drawn back into the other world; and he would disappoint the one person who meant the most to him.

"Neal?"

He turned as Peter sat up in bed and blinked a couple of times, trying to focus.

"Sorry if I woke you" Neal whispered as he closed the drapes and walked back to his bed.

"I'm assuming I woke you" Peter said as he settled back down and pulled the covers to his chin.

"Peter, you need to talk to someone about your nightmares."

"I have been."

"Really?" Neal sat on the edge and let his feet dangle to the floor. "You never said anything to me."

Peter chuckled briefly. "Sorry if the I'm seeing a shrink remark never came up in our conversation." He plopped himself on his elbow and eyed his friend. "We haven't exactly talked since I got out of jail."

"I know." Neal lowered his head. "Peter I'm not sure school is the right thing for me."

"OK" Peter remarked evenly. "You have a year to think about it. It's not something you have to decide right now."

Neal audibly sighed with relief.

"I had fun here. I'm going to miss Chicago."

"Neal, the city isn't going anywhere. You can always come back."

"I know." Neal stretched out on his back and stared at the ceiling.

"I can't promise I'll be a choir boy." Neal turned his head to see Peter smiling.

"I don't expect that of you" Peter remarked as the smile left his face. "I do expect you to try to do the right thing."

"Peter, I can't help but wonder how my life would have been if we never entered Witsec."

"I don't know." Peter yawned. "Go to sleep Neal. We have a long drive tomorrow."

Neal didn't need too much urging and turned on his side with his back to Peter. The agent forced himself to stay awake until Neal's breathing evened out and he was sure his friend was asleep.

Peter flipped over so he was lying on his stomach and thought of his wife. As much as a success the trip had been in repairing his relationship with Neal, he missed his wife and he wanted to go home. Peter closed his eyes and allowed the pleasant thoughts of home and Elizabeth lull him to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Neal adjusted the radio to a different station and lowered the volume, glancing sideways to see if Peter was still asleep.

Something changed; maybe subtle or just gradual enough that it took Neal a couple of days to figure it out.

But after breakfast, when Peter gave him the keys and told him to drive, it hit Neal like a ton of bricks. At some point Peter had become the friend he had asked for and not the man who felt responsible for Neal's well being and sometimes treated him like a child.

Neal might never admit it but he was glad he told Peter about his childhood; though Peter would be the first to tell him he was an adult and he had to put the past behind him, he was sure Peter understood that some things couldn't be left behind and helped shape the man that Neal had become.

He glanced at the dashboard and noticed they were almost on empty; he drove another mile until he saw a gas sign and turned off.

"Peter." Neal reached over and gently shook the agent. Peter stirred with a quiet groan before opening his eyes.

"We need gas. Do you want anything from inside?" Peter turned his head as he tried to gauge their location.

"Where are we?" he finally asked.

"We're still in Indiana but not far from the border."

Peter nodded as he opened his door. "Think I'll stretch my legs" he said as he gingerly got out.

Neal watched him walk away and then started pumping gas. When he was done he found Peter inside, checking out the array of junk food.

"We could stop for lunch" Neal suggested as he grabbed a bottle of water.

"We could" Peter agreed as he took a bag of chips and a diet soda to the counter.

Neal followed and paid for everything with the credit card that Peter knew about.

"Peter, are you ok?" Neal asked once they were settled back in the car.

"Yeah." Peter nodded as he buckled the seat belt and opened his soda."Tired" he admitted as he leaned back and stared out the window.

"If you want to drive let me know."

"I'm good." Peter ripped open the bag of chips and started munching. "Do you want one?"

"No." Neal played with the radio until he found a station that came in clearly.

"What is that?" Peter's eyed widened as he listened to the strange music.

"Not a clue." Neal moved the dial until he found a country station. When Peter didn't protest, he left it there.

"Peter, what do your parents know about me?"

The agent sat up straighter, momentarily surprised by the question.

"What do you mean?" he finally asked.

"Do they know why you were in jail?"

After several minutes of awkward silence Peter answered with a quiet no.

"So you lied to them?"

"I may have omitted a few things" Peter replied.

"So you lied" Neal repeated with a hint of triumph in his voice. He didn't need to look Peter's way to know the agent was squirming a bit.

"Why don't you tell them the truth?"

"Neal, they're my parents and I don't think they'd allow you in if they knew about your father."

"Yet, you don't blame me" Neal quietly said.

"I don't" Peter said loudly. "Neal, my parents are old and it killed them to know their son was in jail."

"So, tell them the truth..."

"No." Peter reached over and turned off the radio. "At no point in that house do you bring up your father or what happened. OK?"

"But they know you were innocent right?"

"They do."

"Do they know about the nightmares?"

"What do you think?"

Neal shrugged. "Are you afraid they're going to hear you?"

Peter smiled. "I figured it's easier to stay awake..."

"Might be easier to not stop there" Neal suggested.

"Not really" Peter remarked with a loud sigh. "They threatened to drive down to Brooklyn if I didn't stop by." Peter paused as he grabbed a handful of chips. "Neal, my dad will be eighty next year. It's too far for him to drive but he won't admit he can't do it. So I said I'd come to them and this road trip gave me the perfect opportunity. Besides, they've heard enough about you that I'm sure they'd finally like to meet you."

"Peter, what are your parents like?"

Peter sighed with a small shake of his head; he knew where Neal was going and he didn't want to have this conversation.

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me" Neal insisted. "Peter I won't compare and contrast parents." He chuckled bitterly. "It's a no win scenario and I won't put myself in that situation." He briefly glanced sideways. "You know I hate to lose. I just want to know what kind of people raised Peter Burke."

"Fine" Peter remarked evenly though every bone in his body said this wasn't a good idea. "Stop for lunch and we'll continue this conversation." Peter knew the next exit was ten miles away and it would give him time to figure out the answer.

* * *

Of all the places to choose Neal picked a Crackle Barrel, a restaurant Peter had seen numerous times during his travels but never stopped to eat at.

It was a quaint place with a fireplace and a gift shop at the front. They were seated right away and quietly read the menus.

Neal glanced over his menu at Peter and smiled, though the smile quickly faded when Peter realized he was being watch.

"What?" The agent asked.

Neal shrugged. "Thank you" he simply said before returning his attention to the menu.

"Would you like to elaborate on that?" Peter wasn't one to let something go, especially if it kept Neal talking.

"For letting me have my vacation. Don't." Neal held a warning finger up. "I know what it is but I'd rather think of it as a vacation. Never had one before..."

"Neal, you've been all over the world."

Neal laughed. "Either doing a job or running for my life. This is the first time I've enjoyed the company and I wasn't looking over my shoulder." He shrugged. "And you didn't have to do it...I'm rather surprised that you agreed." He wriggled his free ankle. "My ankle thanks you too."

Peter rolled his eyes at Neal's last statement. "Tell your ankle to enjoy it while it lasts." Peter smiled. "And you're welcome. I've had fun too." Confessions done, both went back to staring at their menus.

"Wow that was good." Peter leaned back and eyed the few crumbs left from his Reuben sandwich and steak fries.

Neal nodded in agreement as he finished the last of his roast beef sandwich.

"So" Neal said as he gulped down his coke, "are you going to tell me about your parents?"

Of course Neal didn't forget as Peter had hoped during a quiet lunch, sprinkled with talk about the past few days.

"Neal, what do you want me to say? My father was tough but fair..."

"No." Neal stopped the agent in mid sentence. "I don't want the TV version. Just tell me what they're like."

Peter rolled his eyes as the waitress came over to fill his coffee. He thanked her and then glanced Neal's way with a weary smile. "My father was tough" Peter repeated, "and he expected nothing less than obedience and good grades." Peter shrugged. "He wasn't above using the belt when needed and he was an opposing figure..." Peter smiled.

"Did you get in trouble?" Neal asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Sometimes" Peter admitted. "He worked long days so he went to bed early... and I had a penchant for sneaking out after dark and meeting my friends."

"Peter, really. I'm shocked." Neal smirked.

"I didn't do anything illegal" Peter put forth as he added cream and sugar to his coffee. "But I did get caught a few times trying to get back into the house." Peter chuckled. "It was ok if my mom caught me but if Dad did..." Peter paused and Neal didn't ask him to elaborate.

"I learned to love baseball from my dad and he made it to all my games."

"I wonder if my dad was around if I would have liked sports" Neal said forlornly.

"Neal!" Peter reached over and lightly swatted him on the arm. "You said you wouldn't do that."

"I know." Neal looked away with a pensive frown.

"Neal, don't do this" Peter warned as he called over the waitress for another refill of coffee. "You got something special from your mom and I will never understand why you didn't do something with your artistic abilities."

Neal continued to stare out the window.

"Neal, baseball pretty much ruined my relationship with my brother."

That got the ex-con's attention and he glanced Peter's way. "What happened?" he quietly asked. He knew Peter had a brother but the agent rarely talked about him.

"Do you promise to stop with the what ifs?"

Neal shrugged.

"Negotiations" Peter reminded the ex-con. "You said it's how you get what you want."

Neal couldn't help but chuckle as Peter used his own words against him. "I promise" he finally answered with a genuine smile. "Tell me about your brother."

Peter took a deep breath as he wondered how much he should tell Neal. Only Elizabeth knew the whole truth and though she helped them get back in touch with each other, the relationship still wasn't what it should be or what Peter hoped it would be in the future.

"David's a year older than me" Peter started with a quiet voice. "And because we were so close in age everything was a competition. He'd dare me to jump off the garage and I would do it." Peter smiled at the memories. "My poor mom caught us once and..." Peter shrugged. "If I tell you my mom was a saint, believe it."

"Were there good times?" Neal asked.

"Yeah." Peter nodded slightly. "When we were young we were on the same baseball team and it was fun. But I got better." Peter sighed deeply. "Suddenly I was getting noticed and David was resentful. Being drafted...he didn't even get a tryout and it devastated him."

"So he was jealous" Neal put forth.

Peter shrugged. "I guess. But I was hurt. He was my big brother and I wanted him to be happy for me." Peter glanced out the windows with a long shuddering breath.

"Peter?"

"I'm fine" the agent answered but they both knew that was a lie. Neal fidgeted in his seat and then glanced at the desert menu while he waited for Peter to compose himself. He waved the waitress over and ordered two slices of apple pie ala mode.

By the time she returned Peter seemed in better spirits and he eagerly dug into his pie, though he refused to meet Neal's gaze. The ex-con ate his pie with much less enthusiasm, with his mind working through what Peter had told him.

"Peter, what happened next?" Neal asked after they finished dessert.

"Nothing" Peter answered with a defiant shrug. "We were amicable at family functions but we kept our distance from each other."

"And now?" Neal prompted when Peter grew quiet.

"Elizabeth was shocked when she learned all of this. She's so close with her sister she couldn't imagine me rarely talking to my brother." Peter smiled wearily. "She plotted with my mom to get us together and forced us to talk..."

"And it's ok now?" Neal asked, interrupting the agent.

"It's better" Peter admitted, "but I'm not sure it will ever be good between us. We grew apart and that's that."

"Peter, I'm sorry."

The agent shrugged. "It's what we've both said before. Family isn't always related by blood."

Neal smiled with the meaning of Peter's words all too clear. He checked his watch and realized they'd been sitting there for nearly three hours and they still had a distance to go before reaching Cleveland.

"Should we get going?" Neal asked.

Peter nodded.

They paid and headed out, with neither man talking.

"I'll drive" Peter said as he took the keys from Neal and opened the front door. "Take a look at the brochures and see if anything looks appealing for tonight."

Neal slid into the passenger seat and buckled his seat belt. He waited until they were on the expressway before asking the agent something that was bothering him.

"Peter, what happened between you and your brother, can that happen to us?"

"No" Peter answered without having to think that over. "I'm older and wiser and believe it or not I value our friendship."

"I've said some pretty bad things to you."

Peter chuckled. "I'm sure I've done the same."

With that settled, at least for the moment, Neal leaned back and closed his eyes, tired from the earlier drive.

* * *

Peter pulled into the hotel parking lot and found an open spot, turning the car off with a heavy sigh. Yawning most of the last hour, Peter decided they would do nothing that evening but watch TV and rest. The agent's decision was easy considering Neal hadn't budged since they left the restaurant.

"Neal." Peter nudged the ex-con's left shoulder. "Hey, wake up."

Neal turned his head and frowned with his sleep induced eyes staring unfocused.

"We're here" Peter said with a weary smile as he nudged Neal once more.

"Did I sleep the whole way?" Neal rubbed his eyes as he stretched each leg with a quiet groan.

"You did." Peter got out of the car and glanced up at the bright sun. He opened the back door and pulled out both suitcases, setting them on the ground as he waited for Neal.

"How does pizza and a movie sound?" Peter asked when Neal finally joined him.

"Works for me" Neal answered as he grabbed his suitcase and staggered towards the entrance.

Two hours later the pizza was half gone and Peter nursed his can of beer, a small victory after a heated argument with Neal over his drinking. Even though he bought a six-pack he promised Neal he would stop after one can; inwardly smiling as he watched the ex-con open his second can...suffering with the taste to ensure that Peter didn't drink it all.

Neal was quiet and Peter didn't think it was because of their fight. Neal had his eyes on the movie but Peter was sure he wasn't paying attention.

"Neal, what's wrong?"

The younger man shrugged as he looked at Peter with a half-hearted smile.

"I'm still having trouble with what you said earlier..." he paused.

"Trouble, how?" Peter asked with just a little hint of anger. "I didn't tell you so you can judge me..."

"Peter, I'm not" Neal quickly interjected. "It...Just doesn't seem like you" Neal explained somewhat hesitantly. "You don't seem like someone who would hold a grudge" Neal continued as he turned away from Peter's gaze.

Peter grabbed another piece of pizza and leaned back in his chair with a small smile playing on his face. "Neal, I love my brother but we're very different and we grew apart. I really have no other explanation." Peter chuckled nervously. "I was young and I didn't realize how important family was...is" he quickly corrected.

"So Peter Burke is human after all" Neal said, raising his beer can.

"So I've been told." Peter mirrored Neal's salute.

"I was eight when I realized how different I was."

Peter glanced Neal's way with a neutral face; waiting for Neal to go on, surprised that the ex-con was willing to give up information without Peter prying.

"It was the start of the school year and we had to write what we did during the summer." Neal shrugged, recalling the obnoxious assignment that most teachers gave at the beginning of the year.

"Bobby Banger was first up..."

"You're making this up." Peter chuckled. "Bobby Banger..."

"He wrote about his family vacation..." Neal continued, ignoring Peter's comments.

"The Bobby Banger family vacation..."

"Peter!"

"Sorry." The agent tried unsuccessfully to wipe the smile from his face

"Are you done?"

"Hopefully..." Peter snorted. "I'm assuming he got teased a lot."

"He was a head taller and thirty pounds heavier than everyone else. No, we left him alone." Neal sighed audibly as he picked up his beer. "Can I finish?"

Peter nodded solemnly. "Go on" he urged as he reached for another slice of pizza.

"Bobby's vacation was a camping trip with his father, grandfather, uncles and cousins." Neal played with the can as he vividly remembered that day, when his life changed forever. He looked over at Peter and then stared out the window, away from the agent's eyes.

"Neal, I'm a little confused. How did that affect you?"

Neal stood and took a few steps, so he could see the street below. The hotel was situated on a main street not far from the downtown area. Neal watched the people walk briskly by, with children and packages in toll.

"That night" Neal continued as he stared out the window, "I asked my mom where our family was." He turned briefly to face Peter. "I knew about my father but I didn't have grandparents, uncles, cousins...anything." Neal chuckled bitterly. "I asked my mom why we had no one and she started crying..." Neal shook his head with a deep sigh as he sat down and leaned back, with his weary eyes searching the ceiling.

"Peter, it wasn't just tears. She was sobbing uncontrollably..."

"Neal, what did you do?"

"I did what any child would do. I ran to my bedroom and hid in the closet and covered my ears so I couldn't hear her."

"Neal..."

"NO!" Neal stated loudly. "Don't use that tone with me. Peter, I've said it before. I don't want your pity...I just want you to understand."

"OK" Peter whispered evenly. "What happened next?"

"I fell asleep and when I woke up my mom was gone."

"She left you alone?"

"No." Neal shook his head as he reached for another beer. Peter intercepted his hand and grabbed the can. "If you want, we can go downstairs and you can get a real drink at the bar."

Neal shrugged as he sagged deeper into the chair, drawing his knees up. "She went down the hall to Ellen's apartment." Neal smiled weakly. "I searched everywhere for any pictures and I found nothing. Peter, it was the weirdest feeling to know you had no one out there that cared..."

"Neal..." Peter paused, at a loss for words.

"The next day Ellen told me not to bring up the subject again and I didn't. I will never forget the sounds my mom made..." Neal closed his eyes and took a couple of breaths, trying to tuck those memories away.

He opened his eyes to see Peter watching him, with concern clearly etched on his face. "Things changed after that day. I started wandering the streets more and I met Sal soon after..."

"And your life of crime began" Peter finished.

"Something like that." Neal stood. "How about that drink you mentioned?" He grabbed his wallet and without waiting for Peter, Neal walked out.

Peter nursed his soda water as he watched Neal down his second gin and tonic, clearly agitated and unwilling to engage in any conversation.

Peter wanted a real drink but he knew it would upset Neal even more and that's not what either of them needed at the moment.

They were seated at a table tucked away in a corner with only two other patrons sitting at the bar. Peter felt safe enough to reach over and briefly grabbed Neal's hand, drawing the ex-con back to the present.

"Neal, let's make a deal. When we hit New York we stop talking about the past. Sound ok?"

Neal managed a weary smile. "Sure, just when I get to meet your parents. Can I ask about your childhood?"

"No."

"What about your brother?"

"NO." Peter exclaimed loudly. "No past means no past..."

"What if your mom brings it up?"

Peter lowered his head and rubbed his eyes.

"Peter, I can't be rude ..."

"Neal." Peter said sternly. "Are you ready to go up?"

Neal finished his drink and then tossed a few bills on the table.

"You do realize I have a long list of questions for your parents."

With a deep sigh, Peter followed him out of the bar.


End file.
